It was on a business trip to eastern Canada that I ran across one of the most sensual and erotic Mistresses I’d ever encountered. I was staying at a class hotel in Halifax, Nova Scotia, and - in the dining room on my second night - I spotted a striking woman at the salad bar. I didn’t realize it then, since I’d been reading a newspaper up until I saw her, but her table was directly across from mine. I learned that when I watched her walk toward me and then branch off. She was blonde, about 5'9", had a great figure, and showed it in her form-fitting business suit. Unusually high heels adorned her feet. As she sat down, she stared straight back at me. That shook me a bit since, up until then, I’d been the one doing all the gawking. She said something. I didn’t hear her and excused myself.
“I said, would you like to join me?” she repeated.
I didn’t answer, just picked up what I had and moved to her table. Her name, she said, was Julia and she, too was staying at the hotel for the week. She said her company had sent her to Halifax to train employees in the branch office on a new accounting procedure.
“So, how do you like your job?” I asked.
“I like training,” she responded, “but I prefer doing it on a more personal basis.”
“I know what you mean,” I said. “You like dealing one on one.”
“Yes,” she replied. And on other things besides accounting.”
That was interesting. I didn’t know where she was going but her introduction into the conversation of certain innuendo was unmistakable. Our patter took the usual sequence, with even more pointed flirtation interspersed. As we finished our after-dinner coffee, Julia suggested we go back to her room for a night cap. We’d just got nicely settled in when she brought the conversation back to training. “Have you ever had any personal instruction?”
“That depends on what you’re talking about,” said I, smoothly.
Her face hardened as she got to the point. “I don’t like verbal jousting. Have you ever been trained by a female?”
Based on the content of our chat so far, I had a pretty good idea of what she was talking about and, taking the plunge, responded: “I had a Mistress in Toronto for a number of years.”
“Good. Now we’re getting somewhere. When was your last session?”
That confirmed it. I thought my “Mistress” answer was ambiguous enough so that she would either relate immediately to BD or else think more conventional thoughts. Her use of the word session broke my mental log jam. I told her that my last experience had been about eight months ago and the reason there’d been nothing since was that the Mistress I’d been seeing had seeming dropped of the face of the earth. She sat quietly for a moment or two, then told me to go into the bathroom, take off my clothes and wait for her call. I hung everything up on the back of the bathroom door, lit a cigarette, and sat on the side of the tub. I’d just taken the last drag on the smoke when I heard her call, “Get out here, slave.”
Naked, I approached Julia where she sat on the king-size bed. She no longer had the look of the independent business lady. Now, her dress was off. In its place was an erotic display of lacy underwear, from a red satin bra through matching panties and garter belt. Black seamed stockings, four-inch spiked shoes and black leather gloves completed her wardrobe. She sat with a leg crossed. Beside her was an assortment of toys ranging from cuffs, a collar, short chains, connectors and a black cat’o’nine tails.
“On your knees,” she demanded.
Kneeling, I looked up those gorgeous long legs to her stocking tops and at the beautiful breasts spilling over the cups of the bra.
“Lick my shoe.”
Lowering my head, I ran my tongue all over the patent leather pump’s surface. When she tilted her foot and offered her heel, I sucked it deeply. She took the black leather dog collar and fastened it snugly around my neck before snapping on a leash. “You’re a real smart aleck, aren’t you? Well, from this point on, you’re going to do exactly as you’re told. You’re nothing more than my little animal. And little animals need training. You’ll address me only by answering “Yes, Mistress” or “Thank you, Mistress.” Any questions, slave?”
“No, Mistress,” I said.
She had me extend my hands toward her, slipped and locked the cuffs onto my wrists, and then picked up her whip. “Bend over, slave. You’ve already disobeyed me. Now your training begins.”
My ass in the air, my face on the floor, I felt Julia’s whip across my ass as I heard her berate me for answering her question in the negative. “Any questions, slave?”
Learning quickly, I responded, “Yes, Mistress. Would you please whip me again?”
“I’d be delighted,” she said. “Let’s go for 20 this time. Count the strokes and thank me after each. Ready for my whip, slave?”
“Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress.”
Mistress Julia stood and positioned herself beside me. I felt her lashes on my buttocks, alternating from one side to the other. After each blow, I gave the count and thanked Mistress Julia. I could see her using her free hand to rub her crotch. And it was obvious she was at once using the stimuli of whipping while masturbating to get even more turned-on. By the eighteenth stroke, I was whimpering. My ass was red hot.
“Are you enjoying my little kisses, slave?” she whispered.
In tears, I responded, “Yes, Mistress.”
“Good. I’m enjoying it, too. In fact, I love the way your ass meets my whip. And I love the way the strands splay over the whole area. We’ve got two more to go. Shall I make them nice and hard?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
